


Inhale, Exhale

by Valpoet



Series: Blindspot AU [2]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Blind Character, Blindness, Blindspot!AU, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Same As It Never Was, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 22:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17333981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valpoet/pseuds/Valpoet
Summary: Same as it Never Was divergent - in a world where by miracle alone the brothers survive and Donatello came back from "Purgatory".This is a series of various oneshots, drabbles, and snippets from an alternate ALTERNATE universe in which Leonardo is blind, Donatello is guilt stricken, Michelangelo is learning to forgive, and Raphael is learning how to cast aside his anger in favour of loving his brothers.Don's morning routine. Wake up. Catch his breath. Get through the day.Rinse and repeat.





	Inhale, Exhale

_Blood. Screams. Gears and steel._

_"Donnie! I'm-" Skewered, bloodied, dead._

_No words. Back turned. Dead._

_"Leo!" Crawling, skewered, bloodied, dead._

_Dead. All of them. All of them. All of th-_

Don jolts from his sleep, forehead slick with sweat and heart pounding approximately 153 beats per minute. He takes a breath in through his nostrils slowly, does a count to five, breathes out through his mouth. Repeat as necessary.

This has become his life now.

Leaning back against battered and poorly stuffed pillows, he clutches at his face with the strength of someone who's seen everything ripped from them over and over and over. All he can do is sigh, wake up, and try to move on.

So he does.

He doesn't need to look at the clock to know that he's slept passed noon and honestly, he doesn't give a shell of a damn. Okay, that's a lie. He gives a lot of damns about it, but nobody woke him so it doesn't matter now. There's nothing to be done about it.

The old and beaten bed creaks, much like his bones as he stands and gets himself ready to face the day. He tries not to dwell on things like silly nightmares, but it's always hard. When his mind wanders back to what woke him, he often needs to practise his breathing again. He needs to focus. Not always his strong suit, in fact, it's _never_ been his strong suit. Alas, it is what it is.

It is what it is.

He takes worn purple cloth in his hands and wraps it three times, like he always does, and now he's dressed. He's almost satisfied, but knows he never really _will be_. When you wake up like that, like he always does, it's hard to motivate yourself to continue. At least he's stubborn so he's got that going for him if nothing else.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale-

Alright. Alright. Time to face the day. Time to face their faces. Time to smile and be _okay_ because after everything they've been through, the least he can do is be okay. It'll be a lie and they know it's a lie and he knows it's a lie, but hey, at least he's trying to pull himself together and -

_**What could I do, but watch them fall? I could only be frozen in place. In nothingness. I flew too close to the sun and it almost cost me everything and I-** _

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inha-

"Time to face the day, Donatello." He hates how his voice sounds; cracked and choked and _forced_ , but he _is_ forcing it.

He forces it every day, but he was gone long enough and he's here now, so he pushes. He pushes because he has to. He isn't strong like Raph or Mikey or Leo because his strength always came from his ability to dream and imagine things that only _he_ can create. Their strengths come from something else. Mikey gets it better than Don does, really, what they're all good at. Even after all this time and all that's happened, Mikey gets it the best and Don envies how sometimes Mikey seems to just _know._

Mikey shouldn't just know. Mikey shouldn't care. But he does. He always does. Always has. More than any of them. Mikey's really good at this emotional crisis thing and after everything, Don will be the first to admit that he's really jealous.

Not that it really matters all that much.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

Exhale.

He doesn't really recall when he exits his room. Sometimes it just happens; one second he's somewhere and the next he's somewhere else. Lost in his own mind. It happens, nowadays more than it ever used to when they were in their youth.

He's in the kitchen and staring at the coffee maker (old and battered, but repaired and it does its best to keep up with his needs, it really does). Raph is helping Mikey with lunch. It's nothing complicated, never anything complicated when Raph is helping. It looks like rice. Maybe. Don doesn't really have an appetite and Leo isn't really paying attention and it seems like Raph and Mikey are the only two in the world that give a shell about it.

Inhale. Exhale. Inh-

_Ding._

He pours and drinks and pours a second cup. Mikey throws a plate at Leo's brooding head; Leo doesn't blink when he catches it, even though he literally can't see stuff like this coming.

"Alright, Leo, lunch is up. Stop brooding and eat." Mikey, so blunt and so different, but not really; still doing his best, always doing his best to help keep the family together now that they're all _here_.

Don grabs his coffee mug and makes a break for it; Raph grabs his shoulder.

Inhale. Exhale.

"You too, Don. Don't think yer running back to the lab when we ain't seen ya all day. Mike an' I _actually_ worked together on this one."

Don knows this. He saw this. The words don't come, but that's fine. The lack of response and the way he finally exhales is enough. Raph lets go to refill Leo's tea mug.

"It's true." Leo finally speaks up, nursing his newly refilled tea with a small smile only reminiscent of younger years and less stress.

"Raph only broke four dishes today."

Don sits down, Mikey rolls his eyes and grins as Raph begins to protest. There's no surprise, really when it dies down.

Inhale.

"How'd ya even – you know what? Forget it. Not even gonna ask." Raph scrapes his chair loudly instead and Don can barely contain amusement at the clear _deliberate pettiness_ of it, but the words don't really come that well today.

"Ya blind bastard." Raph is amused and kinda smiling, so it's clear at least some of them are having a good day and that's fine.

Maybe later Don will too. When the coffee kicks in and his heart stops trying to kill him, but for now, it is what it is.

Exhale.

Mikey gives him lunch (it _is_ rice. A bit plain, but fine for now.) a comforting pat on the shoulder and another grin; gleaming metal arm attached and being useful as intended since that's his dominant hand.

It's nice. All of this. Family. Together. The way it should be. The way Don feels right now will pass. Maybe in an hour. Maybe in two. Then tomorrow, he'll wake up and do it all again. Rinse. Repeat. Inhale, exhale.

"Apparently you weren't in my blindspot."

Don groans in unison with Raph and Mikey at both his sides and Leo grins like a particularily satisfied cat across the table. Even shoving rice in his mouth doesn't hide it. The turtle has no _shame_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sooner than I anticipated, this came to me. I can only hope I handled this as well as I feel that I have.


End file.
